Typical
by elizabethmn
Summary: Wry, slightly messed-up Bella moves to her friend’s Northwoods cabin to avoid Jacob, her accidental fiancée. There, she meets an odd cast of characters… Lemons, snark. AH.
1. Chapter 1

**All recognizable characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. All other characters and storylines are the property of ElizabethMN. Thank you for respecting copyright law!**

It was just so fucking typical.

My car died on the way home. I walked into the house and discovered my cat threw up. To top it off, the crème de la crème, I had two voicemails on my house phone.

This could mean several things:

My mom was drunk and was bawling about either being a terrible mother she is or what a terrible daughter I am.

Jake wanted to talk about our 'relationship.'

My boss was unhappy with me and chose to call my home on a Friday instead of waiting until Monday to tell me this.

I dropped my bag to the floor and kicked off my shoes. I shrugged off my coat and let it fall on top of the shoes and bag. I just didn't care right now. I didn't have it in me.

I dived onto the couch and closed my eyes. _I'm just going to ignore all of it, and maybe it'll go away_. Yep. That tactic had worked so well in the past, I snorted quietly.

The Smith's _Girlfriend in a Coma_ sang out from my pocket. Renata's ringtone. I smiled for the first time that day. "Ren, hey!"

"Yooooooo," Ren boomed acrossed the line. I laughed.

"I'm glad you called. What's happening?"

Renata sighed. "Many things, but too many for a phone conversation. Want to go out with me tonight? Nothing big, just to Earle's?" Earle's was a small dive bar a block away. Renata knew that her odds of getting me out of my apartment increased expontentially if it was easy for me. I'm selfish that way, she's unyieldingly accommodating that way. Renata was oddly good at keeping the creepers away from us. I have no idea what vibe she worked to do that, but I'll say this – it worked for me. They'd stumble towards us, Renata would glare, and they'd stumble away. It was glorious, really.

"Sure, when?"

"Whenever."

I glanced at the clock. 6:45. "Just let me change my clothes. Say, a half hour?" Renata agreed.

Earle's was a little more crowded than usual when I got there. I pushed the door open, welcoming the familiar blast of hot air against the cold night and smell of cheap booze.

"Oy! Bella!" Apparently Renata was going for her 'Man U hooligan' stylings tonight. This usually meant heavy intoxication, a terrible accent, and loads of aggression on her part. For me, it meant heavy intoxication and bail money for her. I spotted her in the corner of the bar, her head in her hand. Not a part of the hooligan character. Huh.

I wove my way through the crowd. "Renata, hey."

She looked up. She looked terrible. Dark circles ringed her pretty brown eyes. The lines in her forehead looked like she etched in them with eyeliner. This was not the wild girl I knew.

"Rennie? What's going on, girl?" I pulled my bar stool close to her.

"Remember Garrett? We're done."

I blanched. "Gigantor? You ended it with Gigantor?" Renata dubbed him Gigantor for obvious reasons. I was shocked.

"No," she said quietly, "his wife is in remission and he wants to try again with her."

_Oh shit_, I thought. _This is going to be messy_. Renata was tall, blonde, gorgeous. Smart. Educated. And a prostitute. I met her six years ago, in another lifetime, in New York. As a fresh college graduate, she couldn't find work that paid well enough to afford her apartment in Brooklyn. She hit the internet and trolled for 'sugar daddies.' She found them.

She found Garrett.

Renata specialized in men with messed up marriages. She preferred them married, 'so they don't get any funny ideas about some whacky relationship.' She said she was sexually liberated from the confines of the patriarchy. Maybe, but that didn't erase all her daddy issues. She talked about her men with an almost maternal fondness. Renata believed she was a good outlet for their sexual frustrations, emotionally unavailable, a sexual therapist of sorts. She was paid very well for her methodology.

Garrett started out like the others. He was locked in a dead marriage to a woman dying of cancer. He and his wife fell out of love years ago, but they retained some weird sort of friendly intensity. They kept together but slept apart. When she was diagnosed with cervical cancer, Garrett started seeing Renata.

I saw him once as he was leaving her house. I pulled up just as he walked out the door. He was handsome in a 'I like to kayak and shit outdoors' way. His brown hair pulled into a ponytail, Tevas strapped to his feet. Something about him screamed honesty. Renata was urbane, snarky, sneaky. I couldn't see them together at all, but opposites, of course, attract. When he left her house that day, Garrett looked at Renata with real tenderness. "See you soon, gorgeous," he said, cupping her face in his huge hand. Renata fucking _tittered_, her eyes aglow.

And now he was back with his apparently no-longer-dying wife.

I put my arm over her shoulders and held her tight. She leaned into me and exhaled slowly.

"Please don't say anything right now," she whispered.

"Okay," I whispered back.

We couldn't say anything more if we wanted to, however. A voice boomed through the bar, "BELLA! Hey!"

I groaned and let go of Ren. I plastered on a smile and turned towards the voice. "Jacob. Hi." I kept my voice flat.

Renata muttered, "and the four-year one night stand returns." She glared at him. He tripped on his feet but kept focused on me.

Jake strode up to me and pulled me tight. "I'm glad you got my message. This means… I am just so happy," he said with quiet intensity. He smashed my face into his chest. His cologne was a little too strong. He squeezed me so hard I worried about bruises. Luckily, he couldn't see my confused and highly pissed off face.

Renata asked curiously, "What message?" I pushed myself off him angrily. He kept his arm wrapped around my waist. Asshole. I huffed. Jake remained oblivious.

"It's my birthday!" Jake crowed, "and I wanted all my friends to _finally_ meet my girl. I left a message on her machine earlier. And Bella and I, well…" He turned to me, "I guess we both know what this means, huh?" He gave me a knowing smile.

"Jacob…," I began, exasperated. I was cut off by the arrival of three tall men. They crowded around our tiny bar table, greeting Jake and giving each other shit.

Renata looked amused; I narrowed my eyes at her. She looked pointedly at Jake's arm around my waist and raised her eyebrows. I gave her my full-on hate glare. She laughed.

"Guys," Jake grinned, "this is _my_ Bella and her friend Renata." Jake's friends were handsome. They seemed cool. I was shocked.

"Actually, I just prefer Bella, no title attached," I said wryly.

"We can't call you Bella, Esquire? It'd be as awesome as Bill S. Preston, Esq." the shortest one, Paul, laughed.

I half-smiled at the _Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure _reference. "Since I'm not a member of Wyld Stallyons, it won't be as excellent."

They all laughed loudly. I realized they were pretty wasted.

"What about Mistress Bella?" the sandy hair one waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Renata broke in, "Nope, I'm borrowing her whip." Again, more loud laughs. I think one of them muttered something about 'pussy whipped' but I wasn't sure.

Jake's friends and Renata helped off-set Jake's presence. I couldn't shake him off though. He kept a hand on me the whole night. He shot me side-long glances I didn't understand. At the end of the night, the steady stream of affection was really pissing me off. That's just not what we did. We weren't a _couple_, for godssakes. He chased me, I got drunk, we had mediocre sex. Lather, rinse, repeat. Pete and Repeat in a boat. Jacob knew that I didn't want anything serious. Comments like, "Jacob, I don't want anything serious" should've tipped the man off. It didn't.

I managed to shrug off his hand off my back long enough to go to the bathroom. Jake looked like he wanted to follow me, but I just rolled my eyes at him. As I crouched in the stall, I heard two women talking about Jake. He was a regular, a pretty popular guy, so I wasn't surprised. What the women did say, however, almost caused me to tip over.

"So Jake is looking good tonight. It's a goddamn shame." Skank One sighed.

"What a waste." Skank Two agreed. They were silent for a moment.

"I know. I can't believe he's _marrying_ Bella." Skank One said. I stopped breathing. _What?_

"Seriously, she's like, a huge bitch or whatever. And she's like, super mean to Jake. Whatever, they won't last longer than, I don't know, a year or something." Skank Two opined.

Huge bitch, super mean to Jake I could live with. But as his _wife_? What put that rumor into the mill? I thought about Jake's furtive smiles, his clinginess. I inwardly groaned. _Please God_, I prayed as the skanks started talking about Jacob's penis and my lack of personality. _Please let this just be a rumor. A huge, easily dismissed rumor_.

The knot in my stomach told me otherwise.

As I continued to bargain with God, Skank One and Two slinked out of the bathroom. I followed soon after, feeling completely sober. What should I do? Laugh it off with Jake? Ask him about it? Ignore it? _Ignore it,_ I decided uneasily, _I'm acting like the skanks are a reliable source of information. This wouldn't be the first time I'd heard them say something completely false_.

I warily made my way over to our table. Renata had sad eyes and her arms around Paul, Jake's friend. The guys were doing shots. My anxiety spiked as Jake looked at me with an enormous smile. _No, no, no, no_, I told myself, _just a rumor just a rumor._

"THERE SHE IS!" Jacob yelled. "MY BRIDE!"

_No_, I thought as I fainted.

* * *

I woke up suddenly, disoriented. I whipped my aching head around. I was on Renata's couch with a massive headache. The late morning sunlight peeked through her white sheer curtains. My face was lined by the creases in her pillows and my head ached. I wasn't sure, but I think Renata put her living room set on a carousel. I was rank with the smell of old alcohol and the lingering scent of cigarettes in my hair. Gross. I wiped a little drool off my chin, embarrassed. _What happened_?

Renata ducked her head out of the kitchen door. "Coffee's on," she whispered.

"Ooooh," I moaned, dropping my head in my hands.

Renata blanched. "Seriously, girl, keep it down. And drink some water."

A half-gallon of water, two Advils and one hot shower later, I was approaching feeling human again. I made my way into Renata's kitchen wearing some of her clothes and found her nursing another cup of coffee, an empty cereal bowl in front of her. She looked hung-over and sad. It broke my heart a little to see her like that.

"Girl, you are bleary-eyed!" she snorted.

"Yeah. Okay. I admit to that. Now what exactly happened last night?" My head felt like it was underwater.

Renata's eyebrows shot up. "Before you fainted or after?"

I thought for a moment. "I remember someone picking me up off the ground. I remember starting a lot of shots. Then I remember waking up here this morning massively hung over. I feel like I'm missing some pertinent details in that middle section."

Renata laughed, "Yes, some salient facts are absent, Ms. Smarty-pants."

I stopped, mid-pour of another cup of coffee. "Did… Am I making it up… Did _Jacob_ say we were getting married?"

Renata's smile slid off her face. "Uh, yes. You, sweet girl, are in a fucked up situation. Why'd you let it get so out of hand?!"

I didn't have an answer for that. I sighed. "I have some guesses, old therapists probably have more guesses than me, but really, I have no idea. Question is, what the hell do I do now?"

"Hello – you tell him NO."

I squirmed. "Yeah, but _how_?" A thought shot into my head, "And _how_ did Jacob think we were getting married in the first place? When did I say yes?" I slammed my coffee down a little too hard. It sloshed over onto the table.

Renata pursed her lips. "Check your machine."

"Oh hell to the NO. Renata, no one proposes on an answering machine. Seriously. Nobody. Not even Jacob is that dense."

Renata spoke very slowly, "Check. Your. Machine. Bella."

I picked up her cell phone on the table and called my house. I punched in my code and my breath caught when Jacob's usually booming voice came across the line. He sounded somber. The man didn't do somber. _Shit_, I thought. _I should've listened to the stupid voicemail. It would've been so easy! Dang._

"Er… Hey. Bells. You know, it's me… Jacob."

_Duh._

"Anyway, so I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. You know, about the future. Or whatever. And… and… I want you in _my_ future, Bells."

My stomach sank.

"So, I know you're… not so good with confrontation… or direct questions…"

_True, Jacob. Fair point._

"And it's kind of hard to read you sometimes. So, I thought this might work for you."

BEEEP. The machine cut him off. I skipped forward to the next message.

"Whoa. It's Jake still. Hi Bells. Okay, so anyway, I'm going to Earle's tonight. If you show up, then I know our relationship can… go to the next level. I mean, not immediately, but someday. Someday soon."

His voice deepened.

"Bells, I know we've never said it to each other, but we go way back… And I know your dad would be happy with us… and I love…"

BEEEP. The machine cut him off again. I dropped my head to the table. "Renata, did you know about that?" I asked, my voice muffled.

"Well, I learned about it last night. Jake explained it as you worked your way through many, many shots. Also, I learned you are very flexible."

My face went white. "What?"

"Yeah. You demonstrated your flexibility for the bar. Jack-off Jacob loved it. _I_ got you off the table." Renata shot me a hard look. I can be kind of belligerent when I drink. Oops.

"So," Renata continued, "What are you going to do?"

"You know, I don't know. I do know that I'm entirely too hung-over to deal with this right now. I think I'm going to head home."

Renata's forehead creased, "Listen, your drama is easier to deal with than mine right now. Are you sure you don't want to hash this out?"

Guilt washed over me. "God, listen to all this talk about me. How are _you_? Do you want to talk about Gar-"

Renata cut me off. "Don't even say his name." Her voice cracked. "I just can't…" She looked over my shoulder, out the window.

Her eyes fixed back on me determinedly. _Oh shit. This could be either really a good thing or a bad thing_. "I need to leave town. Like, right now."

"What?"

"I want to flee. Turn my tail and run. Quit when things get tough. Take the easy way out."

"Okay, Ren, I catch your drift, but just… _what_? Where do you plan to flee? What's your fleeing destination?"

Renata took a deep breath and said exactly what I never expected her to say.

"Northern Minnesota. You and me. We're going."


	2. I'm in

**All recognizable characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. All other characters and storylines are the property of ElizabethMN.**

_Northern Minnesota._

I tried the words out in the shower. They rolled around my brain as I took the bus to work. I watched the streets blur past, the people jumping on and off the bus. I loved living in the city. I'm from a tiny town, do I really want to go back to one? Forks, my hometown, was a single stop light, one-bar affair. Moving away to college was a huge shift for me. Could I make the shift back? Would it feel like Forks?

I might as well have swapped out 'northern Minnesota' for Tibet or Sri Lanka – equally bizarre places. Actually, northern Minnesota might have been more bizarre because really, who goes there? I tried to recall all I knew about the place. The movie _Fargo_. Wait, wasn't that in North Dakota? I knew it was cold there. Really, really cold. Chicago was somewhere nearby, I think. Shit, I'm not sure.

My computer at work hummed as it came to life. I stared at the grey padding of my cubicle. Over the years, my coworkers had plastered their walls with pictures of kids and dogs and inspirational posters. Angela, my 'next door neighbor,' had a virtual arboretum. Her desk was covered with ferns, cacti, and other green things. Her attempt at making the corporate desolation of our office into a thing of beauty depressed me. Actually, this job depressed me, if I was being honest with myself.

I never really decorated my cube.

I tacked up a picture of me and Renata, a vintage postcard of Havana, and a fortune cookie prediction that said, "You will lose three black socks this month and one white." That's it. I wouldn't even know what else to put up. I hadn't traveled very much, I wasn't into pop culture like some of my coworkers (one had a shrine to some actor in a teen vampire movie – very pretty guy, but kind of odd for a fifty-something woman, wasn't it?). I lived a quiet, sedate life. I kept to myself and I was okay with that. _Wait, don't serial killers live like that?_

My boss's quick, nearly silent footsteps shuffled behind me. I sighed, knowing what was next.

"Hiya there, pretty ladyyyy."

Ah, my daily dose of vague sexual harassment begins. It wasn't even eight a.m. yet. Nice.

I swiveled in my chair. "Yep. Good morning, James."

James leered. I think he was aiming for seductive, or maybe his lip had a spasm. Either way, it was creepy.

"Sooo….What wild things did you do this weekend?" James could've been attractive if he wasn't pure evil. He was the boss that stole your ideas and then told you to work the weekend. Not that had ever happened to me. Twice.

I contained my urge to roll my eyes. I gave myself a mental pat on the back for the effort. "Quiet weekend. Nothing much happened," I lied.

"Not what I heard," he sang. His hands gripped either side of my cubicle doorway. No escape. _Did he try to be that ominous, or did it come naturally to him?_

I flushed. _Shit._

"Uh, what did you hear, James?" My voice hardened. I couldn't stand the guy.

He ran a hand through his blonde hair. He was vain about his looks; I have no doubt they'd served him well over the years. He retained the lean, slightly strung out look of a track star on coke, which he doubtlessly was. James' flat, blue eyes wowed some women, like my insane coworker Victoria. She'd do anything for him, and if office gossip was correct, she _did_ do anything for him. My stomach flipped, just thinking about it. His thin lips pulled into a wider, even creepier smile.

"I heard congratulations are in order. I can't begin to tell you it just breaks my heart that you're off the market before we even had a chance…" James trailed off meaningfully, his eyebrows raised.

"Er. Yeah. Yep, I suppose I am getting married." _Jesus, if this is what it takes to get him to stop talking to me, I'll tell him I eloped yesterday, too_.

"Hmm… You don't sound too excited about it, pretty lady. Maybe you still have some wild oats to sow?" James was enjoying this. Ew. _Make it stop, make it stop_, I thought desperately.

I decided that marriage was possibly the only way to get him off my back, not that I'd ever turn my back on the guy for fear of my life. I enthused, "No! I'm super excited! It's super! Jake is just… super!" My hands flailed around like little dead fish.

I was a horrible liar. _Stop saying 'super,' you moron!_

Angela walked into her cube then; I heard the familiar shuffling of her coat and papers. James sniffed in her direction and said, "Well, I have a few questions for your coworker. But you and me…" he gestured between us, "we aren't finished. Not by a long shot." His little reptilian tongue darted out and licked his lips. His pointly, overly whitened teeth flashed as he bared his teeth at me. He turned to harass poor Angela.

I gagged a little and tried to pass it off as a cough. I don't think I was successful.

After that par for disturbing encounter with James, I turned to work. They hired me right after college, when I was sure that this was just a stop-gap as I worked on my novel, my _real_ writing. This was just a day job. Over time, my 'real' writing happened less and less. My day job became my job. I wasn't Bella Swan, writer – I was Bella Swan, mid-level technical manual editor and writer. _At least the word 'writer' in still in there somewhere?_ I asked myself weakly. I couldn't even properly lie to myself.

My inbox was filled with the usual requests from clients, some making 'suggestions' for the technical manuals I wrote for them, some with valid questions. I sighed. My eyes spotted an email from "Death Glare" and I knew Renata had sent me an email. Hers were the only ones worth opening.

To: Bella Swan

From: Death Glare

Date: Monday, March 1, 2010 at 5:55 AM

Subject: I WILL disown you as a friend if you don't make this damn trip with me.

hi. so this move/vacation thing is real. here are the deets: my family has a cabin (more like a lodge) on a lake, i went there all the time as a kid. it's super pretty – pine trees and fresh air and clear water - and the accents people have there are hil-arious. it's a little out of the way, but again, so beautiful. there's a larger town nearby, so it's not like we'll be devoid of civilization.

i have thoughtfully complied a list (it's a really good list):

1) Money. i know you have a metric shit-ton (shit-tonne?) of money in the bank. don't even front like you don't. break your lease, it's a shitty apartment. besides, it's not like we're going somewhere that you'll want to buy a lot of shit. not that you EVER buy shit, anyway.

2) Your shitty, shitty job. quit your job. i have zero doubt that james mccreeperson, mayor of creepville, already sexually harassed you today. and writing technical manuals? seriously? is that what you want from your degree? is that what you want for YOUR LIFE? i know the girl i met in that writing workshop was better than that. YOU ARE BETTER THAN THIS.

3) You will flee jacob and that fuckery. seriously. i know how you love to avoid difficult situations. here's a fine chance to do just that. nip that in the bud.

in all seriousness, i can't be here anymore. this thing… it's harder than i thought it'd be. please come with me. Please.

Renata

_Well, damn_. She was right about… everything. I thought of my tiny, vile apartment. I could afford a nicer place, but I never felt motivated. I couldn't even have a cat there, not that I thought I could be successfully responsible for another sentient being. The heat was spotty; it sweltered in the summer. My neighbors fucked and fought equally loudly. Because it was so cheap, I was able to stockpile my savings account. That had to count for something.

For a second, I indulged in a fantasy of me, nestled in a warm little lodge, overlooking a frozen lake ringed with pine trees. I held a steaming cup of hot cocoa and burrowed into heavy blankets in front of the fire. My hot mountain man walked into our lodge, smiling at me. Gorgeous. Tall and strong but lean, he'd kick off his heavy boots. I flushed, anticipating his touch, his next movement. This was the man who would make me breakfast in the morning after spanking me all night (not that I'd ever been spanked, but whatever). He'd slowly stalk towards me, his passionate eyes never leaving mine, roll up the sleeves of his flannel and say…

"Hello, earth to Bella?"

_No, he wouldn't say that._

Angela's head popped over the cube. I looked up at her concerned face. "Seriously, I'm coming over," she said.

She walked over and sat on my counter. "Okay, did James finally drug my coffee or did I hear him say you… You… Were getting married?" Her voice trailed off. The situation didn't compute for Angela, either.

I groaned and let my head hit my desk. "So the office gossip begins… Dang."

Angela frowned. "Okay, that's not a denial, my friend."

"Ang, it's a huge misunderstanding. Jacob… And I just didn't know what to do… I don't even really know how James heard… And then James was here talking to me… And I just thought 'Awesome, let me be engaged if you'll leave me alone…'" I sputtered.

Angela cocked an eyebrow. "Do you want Jacob or James to leave you alone?"

"Both?"

She shook her head, "Accepting a proposal is not a great way to break up with a guy, Bella. In fact, it's commonly accepted to mean something else _entirely_. And besides, only death will stop a guy like James. If anything, he'll eat up the challenge."

I nodded, defeated. Angela took pity on me, saying, "Well, that sustainable building tech manual won't write itself, I guess." She stood. "Stay strong, sister." Angela never pushed. I loved that.

I half-heartedly smiled at her attempt to cheer me up.

_Quit my job_. _Just up and leave_, I mused. I really hadn't ever done anything so crazy. I was the quintessential good girl. Even after my dad died… My eyes welled just thinking about that. I stayed the course, finishing school. He would've been proud. Charlie, my dad, I tried so hard to make him proud of me. I moved in with him during high school after my mom, Renee, remarried. Charlie and I had a quiet little life together, more friendly than parental. I watched him pine over my mother, even though they'd been divorced over 17 years.

When I moved in, the house was exactly as she left it. Over time, I made small adjustments, like painting the kitchen cabinets and stripping the striped wallpaper in the bathroom. Charlie would help, silently. I would ask him, "Do you think this looks okay?"

I wanted to ask him, "Are you okay?"

He'd grunt, nod his head, and say something like, "I think you're doing a good job here."

I hoped that meant, "Yes, I'm okay." I wasn't sure. Charlie was steady, devoted. Maybe I'm making this all up and he was okay after my mom left, but I doubt it. Their wedding picture was tucked away in his bedside table. Charlie taught me a lot – about work ethic, dry humor, restraint. I always admired him, and maybe romanticized the longing he felt for my mother. I wanted to be like him, to burn slowly and surely.

I got a steady, stable job. Jacob was a steady, stable non-boyfriend. My dad approved. Jacob was so _easy_. We had grown up together. He was my prom date, my first kiss. It felt natural with him, if not a wee bit incestuous. He was the brother I never had, the boyfriend I never really wanted. Jacob followed me when I moved, although he insisted it was because he had more opportunities here in the city. I know he missed La Push, the reservation he grew up in, because every so often he'd make sly little comments about the glories of the small town life, the community he loved. I just… couldn't. With Charlie gone, Forks and La Push held no appeal for me. I just wanted to live my steady, stable life.

But it wasn't steady or stable. It was half-assed. I looked around my bleak little cubicle. I hadn't even decorated, not in the six years I'd been here. _Six years. Sheesh_. I looked at the manual due today. It was some medical thing; I couldn't have even told you what it was or did if I tried.

Not only was my life half-assed, it was on auto-pilot. Renata was my only real friend, and pretty much because I was the only one immune to her death glare that kept everyone else away. She was devoted and true and she needed me. I wasn't sure about this whole 'quit my job and move to god-knows-where', but I could be there for her. Charlie was there for me when I lived with him. I could do that for Renata.

I couldn't believe this. I was actually going to do this thing. I was leaving. _I was leaving_. The sudden rush of exhilaration rocked me. My pulse picked up; I felt electric. The mundane sounds of the office faded away, replaced by the rhythm of blood in my head.

I sent Renata a simple email:

_Renata,_

_I'm in._

_Bella_


	3. Climate Change

**All recognizable characters are the property of Stephenie Meyer. All other characters and text are the property of ElizabethMN.**

**Thank you for reading!!**

My head rolled back onto the vaguely smelly cab seat. The pleather was chilly this time of morning. I watched the cab driver's jaw line clench with every car that passed him. Clearly, this man had a need for speed, and that need wasn't being met. _Story of my life_.

"Sir, if you want to go faster, I'm okay with that."

His brown eyes shot to mine in the rear view mirror. "I can't, miss. Another speeding ticket means too much trouble for me." I nodded. I got that, on many different levels.

Renata and I originally thought we'd share a cab to the airport, but she called me in the dark of night, frantic. "Bella. Bella. Hey, okay…" She was panting.

I shot out of bed at the sound of her voice, alarmed. "Renata, what's wrong?" I shot a glance at my bedside clock. 3 am. _God, please let Renata be okay._

"Oh, wow. Nothing," her tone shifted to confusion. "Why would you say that?"

"Wait, am I dreaming? We are having a conversation at 3 am that YOU instigated, right?"

Renata sighed, "You're so dramatic. I'm still packing. I just wanted to tell you that I can't share a cab with you this morning."

_Incredible_. "Do NOT wake me to talk about cabs! Ever! Unless one is exploding all around you!" I fumed.

Renata laughed, fueling my annoyance. "Sorry to wake you, lady! Man, I'll see you on the plane! Drink some coffee! Bye!"

_She just used entirely too many exclamation points._ I flopped back into bed, the adrenaline from my worry making sleep impossible. I stared at the cracked and stained ceiling. I always wondered when it would crash on me. I smiled. _This is the last time I'm sleeping in this miserable hole._ My irritation dissipated with that thought.

It was too dark to see anything, but I could vaguely make out the shapes of my suitcases next to the bed. My apartment was completely barren now – which took very little effort to accomplish, much to my dismay. I liked to think of my decorating style as "refugee chic." I giggled, feeling silly and slightly loopy.

In the stillness, my smile vanished once I started playing the 'what-if' game. _What if this is a terrible idea? Who does this? What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking._ I forced myself to take a deep breath, and tried to think about puppies romping through fields, still ocean waters. Instead, James' face, furious, popped in my head. The smile returned. _Ah, now that's a happy place._

Quitting my job had been the highlight of my employment. I sent James this email at the end of the day:

To: James MacCreiperson

From: Bella Swan

Re: Resignation Tendered

James, I'm leaving the state, never to return. I quit, effective immediately.

Yours truly,

BS

_My return to writing – a triumph of emotion and truth. And bitchiness_. I hit send and ran to the restroom. _Maybe I can leave without seeing James_. I looked at myself in the mirror. The pale green of the bathroom lent a sickly hue to my already sallow face. _Nice_. But even still, I felt radiant. I felt free. I walked out of the bathroom, ready to dart to the elevators.

James waited for me outside the bathroom. _How could I think a simple bathroom maneuver would work? _That man tracked all of our movements with eerie precision.

He pushed himself off the wall and stood in front of me, a tad too close. I took a step back. He took a step forward. "Bella. I've been waiting for you." _Yep, eerie_. He looked at me intensely, meaningfully.

"Oh. Okay." I said. _Smooth_.

"So you think you're leaving me." He said, keeping his creepy eye contact. _Wait, when was the last time he blinked? _As if he could read my thoughts, his eyes widened even further.

"Yep, leaving the state, never to return." I tried to break eye contact, but I was really curious to see if he'd blink. It was like being trapped in a psychotic staring contest, and James was clearly going to win.

"Well… Where are you going? I'd like to keep in touch with you…" He tipped his head back ominously. _Still no blinking_. God, aren't his eyes dry? Mine would be at that point. _Focus, Bella._

"Going? Oh, you know, with a friend…" I tried to edge around him, edging to the left. He shifted, keeping in front of me. I shifted to the right; he followed. Great. Now I was trapped in a psychotic staring contest/forced dance party with my ex-boss who may or may not have drugged my coworker at the Christmas party.

"A friend? Do you mean your fiancée?" _Still NOT BLINKING._

"Yep, that's exactly what I mean. Happily ever after! Going to be a happy housewife! Super!" _Again, with the super._ I really needed to work on my deception skills. James looked furious.

I tried to dodge around him again; he moved with me. "I don't think this will be the end of us, Bella. But I realize that legally, I have to let you go at this moment." _Legally? _I wanted to laugh, but quickly decided against it. You don't laugh in the face of a man who never blinks. I wondered if I could pass that off as a wise folk saying. I tucked that thought in my pocket. I'll try it out later.

"Yep, the law. Gotta go. 'Bye, James!" I took opportunity of his rare compliance with the law/normal behavior and darted to the elevators. I felt him following me.

I hit the button approximately twelve times, willing the elevator to hurry up. Suddenly, James' breath hit my ear. "I WILL see you soon, Bella." His breath smelled like... blood? _Jesus._

The door opened. I damn near fell in my hurry to escape James. I turned and said simply, "Don't count on it, James." He blinked. The doors closed.

_Such a happy place to think about._ I sighed and rejoined reality. The cabbie looked at me expectantly. Apparently we were at the airport. Judging by his expression, we had been at the airport for a while. "Miss, are you going into the airport?" He said, dryly.

"Yes." I told him firmly. "I needed a moment. You don't laugh in the face of a man who never blinks, you know." He nodded sagely. I decided I liked him and his willingness to accept my brand of crazy. I tipped him hugely.

After removing my shoes, my belt, my pocket change and my dignity at security, I waited anxiously at the gate, looking for Renata. We weren't boarding for another forty-five minutes, but I wanted to connect with her, considering that she knew where we were going and whatnot. I had the address, but I didn't want to roll into some tiny town and go to the wrong house/lodge/cabin/whatever. I was excited for the change, but I expected a wingman on this mission. No way was I going it alone.

I spotted her sitting towards the window. _Oh god, please tell me she's not hitting on Old Man River over there_. Renata sat next to a man of an indeterminate age. He was very well preserved, but his papery skin pointed towards the upper end of the age spectrum. His hair was dyed a deep jet blank, starkly contrasting with his pallor. His widow's peak and sharply arched black eyebrows reminded me of Dracula, only older and possibly with more experience hacking people apart. Naturally, he wore a black suit with a ox-blood red shirt and black tie. I shivered.

I walked slowly over to them, absorbing the scene. Old Man River was flanked by a young blonde girl (_his daughter?_) who looked amazingly like Dakota Fanning. Her honey blonde hair spilled over her shoulder enticingly. If her dress were any shorter, the airport would be her gynecologist. His arm was around her, one long, bloodless finger stroking her bare shoulder… The vibe I got was NOT of a daddy/daughter. More like sugar daddy/daughter thing. I inwardly cringed. Exactly Renata's type. _Please God, say it ain't so_.

Renata's laugh floated over the seats. It was good to hear her laugh, regardless of the company. Well, a change in company would be better. _C'est la vie_.

She spotted me and waved me over. "Bella!" I waved back. The seat across from the trio was open, so I took that.

"Bella, these are my new friends," she smiled sweetly at the man, who smiled faintly back. "Aro and Jane. Aro and Jane, my best friend Bella." Aro stood and stretched his hand out to me; I put mine out to shake it. His cold vice grip took me off guard. He pulled my hand to his lips. I had a flash of fear – _is he going to bite off my hand?_ Aro brushed his lips over the back of my hand. I shivered. The man seemed slightly feral.

"Enchanté," he murmured, his black eyes piercing mine. _Did he just sniff me?_

"Likewise," I replied, slightly stunned.

I caught Jane's eye as Aro turned to sit. She looked like she wanted to gut me like a fish. I hoped she hadn't snuck a shiv past security. She seemed the type. _Renata likes the weirdest people_. I conveniently ignored the fact that Renata liked me.

Renata beamed. "Aro is Italian, Bella. He was just telling me about Volterra, his hometown."

"Yes, it is extrrrrremely beautiful. I am blessed to have sprrrrung from its glorrrrrious loins," Aro said, seriously. He trilled his r's excessively long.

I bit back a laugh. Who says shit like that?

Renata continued, oblivious. "And Jane is his friend. They're traveling to Minneapolis for business together."

"What business are you two in?" I asked, curious. I somehow doubted their 'bidness' was legit.

Aro waved a hand lazily. "Shipping, exports, many things. Jane and I collect things, mostly."

"Like art?" _By 'art' I meant 'human trafficking,' or 'kidneys,' obviously_.

Aro and Jane laughed quietly. "Yes, like art," Aro's mouth twisted into a vicious smile. _Yep, human trafficking/kidneys it is._

Renata looked adoringly at Aro. "I love art," she gushed. _Okay, I've heard enough_.

I stood up. "Unfortunately, I really need some coffee. Would you guys like some?" Calling Aro a 'guy' felt somehow disrespectful, which made me gleeful. They all declined. I'm not sure if Renata even tore her eyes away from Aro's face as I left. Jane, however, alternated staring sullenly between Renata and me. I appreciated her consistency.

I killed a little time getting the coffee, browsing the paperbacks. I saw _Wuthering Heights_, my favorite book when I was in high school. My tastes had changed, matured, but I smiled a little remembering how many times I re-read that one.

I heard our flight called over the loudspeakers and turned quickly to make my way out of the bookstore. I hadn't anticipated another body standing behind me. I hit him solidly, my coffee making a perfect arc as it splashed on the floor to the left.

"Oh shoot! Are you okay? I don't think my coffee landed on you…" I trailed off as I looked at the poor guy's chest. A very nice chest in a Smiths concert tee, if I was looking. _Maybe I looked a little bit_.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah… Whatever," he said dismissively. My eyes snapped to his, shocked. It was an accident – surely he wasn't that mad?

My eyes froze.

_He was fracking gorgeous_. Tall, auburn hair that was just this side of red. Messy, in that 'I'm so nonchalant about my looks, and I do look pretty great, right?' kind of way. Sideburns. Green eyes. Straight nose, full lips. He looked completely pissed off.

I inwardly sighed. And he's an asshole, apparently. That combination was all too typical. "Again, I'm sorry." I said, resigned.

He turned his heel and stalked off. Lovely.

I made my many apologies to the poor employee who would have to clean up my mess. She was gracious, at least, and refused to let me help clean it up with the stack of paper towels she held. "I'm used to it. It's okay, miss." She laughed. After Mr. Haughty Hottie's anger, it was nice to interact with a human in a human way. I thanked her, apologized again, and made my way to the gate.

They were boarding first class. Aro and Jane stood in line with their fancy luggage, chatting with Renata. Or, rather, Renata chatted with Aro and Jane glared at Renata.

Aro's eyes lit when he saw me nearing their little huddle. "Why, hello, my old frrrrriend. I did not expect to see _you_ this morrrning."

"Yeah, we just met? About 100 yards away from here? I just got some coffee?" Maybe Aro finally cracked? _Please god; don't let him have a hippie freak out_. The thought of Aro freaking out freaked _me _out.

"Hello, Aro," a deep voice said quietly from behind me. _Okay, that's embarrassing. _

I turned and groaned to myself. The Haughty Hottie. Of course. If this were a romcom, our little encounter would be our meet-cute. We'd instantly fall into passionate attraction that would reveal itself as hate. Zany hijinks and miscommunications would ensue until we finally declared our love. We'd conclude with a rousing happily ever after. Choreography may or many not be involved.

Since this wasn't a romcom, however, I just felt mild annoyance. It didn't matter how hot he was.

Haughty Hottie didn't even pause for Aro, however. He walked coolly up to the flight attendant, handed him the ticket, and walked into the plane.

I got the feeling people don't diss Aro. He didn't look mad; rather, he looked pleased with himself, which was way scarier.

"Who was that?" Renata asked.

Jane finally answered, "That's someone who won't do business with us." Her voice sang angelically, her tone adorably pouty. If I wasn't sure that she would happily cut a bitch, I'd call her cute.

"Why is that?" I asked.

Aro turned his still smiling face to me, "Because he is a verrry silly man." He chuckled. Jane's lilting giggle joined him. I half expected someone to burst into a "MWHA ha ha haaaaa."

"MWHA ha ha haaaaa," laughed Renata. _Wow, I didn't really expect to hear that._ Renata's laugh was slightly diabolical. I loved that about her.

"I have no idea what is so funny," I said evenly. Color me killjoy, because the laughing cut off suddenly. _Did they time that?_

"Well, ladies. We must boarrrd our flight," Aro said archly. His skinny arm shot out and grabbed my unwilling hand. His dry, cold lips scraped the back of my hand. "It was a pleasurrre, darrrling Bella," he breathed onto my skin. _Only fire will make my hand clean. Fuck that hand sanitizer stuff. _I willed myself not to vomit.

He did the same to Renata, only she looked overjoyed. _Her taste in men is certifiably the worst. Seriously._ Aro held her hand briefly, petting her arm. "My darrrling, we will rrreconnect verrrry soon."

"I'd love that," Renata said coyly. He slowly released her hand and turned towards the door.

Jane watched Renata as Jane followed Aro. Apparently if Jane had her way, the force of her glare would put Renata in a world of hurt.

Renata glared back. Jane stumbled. I pulled Renata away – we were one kiddie pool away from a Jell-O catfight.

"Renata, what's up with you and Count Chocula?" I hissed.

Renata looked surprised. "You don't think he's sexy?"

"Uh, that would be a NO. Seriously, you do?"

"YEAH. That man is hot like fire. Don't you think he's something great?" she asked seriously.

"He's sure something, Renata." That was the best I had to offer her.

We paused our conversation as we headed into the plane. I gave Jane a head nod as we passed her in first class, and ignored Aro. I hope I aggravated both of them. What a pair. _A pair of somethings_.

Haughty Hottie's head rested against his seat, eyes closed. I tried not to notice him, but I couldn't help it. Just as I walked past him, his eyes jerked open. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," I stopped, curious.

"Uh, your bag is crushing my arm."

I looked down; my carry on was indeed crushing his arm against the armrest. "Jeeze, I'm really sorry. Again." I blushed. It had been a long time since I blushed, but it came back full-force. Haughty Hottie opened his mouth to say something, but I bolted. _No need to revisit our previous encounter_.

I sprinted down the isle into coach. Well, I walked moderately quickly, trying to not pound anyone in the face with my bag. _I think that girl will get over it with time and therapy. It's not like I meant for her hair to get stuck in the zipper._

Renata sank in the seat next to me. "Girl, what was that?"

I rolled my eyes. "I could ask you the same question. Jesus, Ren, I feel like getting you condoms for your eyes, the way you checked Old Man River out."

"Well, _I_ think he's _great_," Renata's eyes dared me to respond.

"Well, _I _think he's crazier than a bag of weasels," I shot back.

"Hey, didn't you get engaged via ANSWERING MACHINE?" Renata volleyed. _Low blow._

"I'm just watching out for your kidneys!" I volleyed back. _This was getting fun_.

"Nice non sequitur, Miss Crazypants." Renata was done. She frowned, suddenly serious. I felt guilty. Who am I to judge her choices? It's not like I'm particularly noted for making good ones myself.

"Renata, I'm sorry. So. Er. Did you get his phone number?" _That sounded supportive, right?_

Ren smiled shyly. "Yeah. I think we're going to dinner this week."

"Wow, seriously?"

"I know he's older, but there's just something about him, Bella…" _Something scary_.

"Well, dinner should be nice." _It's in public, lots of witnesses…_

The rest of the flight went quietly. I read; Renata watched the terrible in-flight movie. I pulled a heavy sweater out of my carry on, anticipating the change in climate. _A change in climate in more ways than one_…

**Thank you for reading!!**

**Have any of you ever had crazy bosses or watched your friend pick up someone awful? (I'm batting a thousand with those questions.)**


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